


The Edge of Night | Ribin A Du

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Council of Elrond, Elves, Elvish, F/M, Filling Gaps in Canon, Hobbits, Missing Female Characters, More female characters, Rivendell | Imladris, Sindarin, Strong Female Characters, The Noldor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: Caladwen Indgalad (Hearttree) is one of the last Noldorian elves remaining in Middle Earth. Her immediate family are either dead or have travelled to the Valinor. Because of this, Caladwen has been raised mostly by her aunt, Galadriel, or her cousin, Elrond, although she calls the Mirkwood her home. That is, after all, where she will rule once she weds her beloved Legolas.Although Caladwen's beauty is not unknown throughout Middle Earth (she is referred to as the Elven Beauty by even the halflings who have heard of her from Bilbo) she is humble with it, and her heart is kind and true. She has fought in many battles in her 2787 years and is not afraid to speak her mind or stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. She is particularly fond of halflings after befriending Bilbo on his adventures all those years ago.When Elrond calls a council to discuss the appearance of the Ring of Power and the potential rise of Sauron, Caladwen knows she must do her part to protect her homeland. She and Legolas travel to Rivendell to sit on the Council of Elrond. The ring is presented, a fellowship of the ring is formed with Legolas and Caladwen a part of it, and the rest, they say, is history.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 17





	1. The Elven Beauty | Elenile

_Third Age, 3018 | Rivendell._

Frodo had started to take to life in Rivendell. He was healing, and he was ready to return to the Shire. Elrond had called a council to find a suitable replacement to decide what to do with it. Frodo was more than happy to hand it over. 

He had been happy to be reunited with his uncle. Bilbo seemed happy now he was amongst the elves once more. He had aged already but he seemed content. Frodo hoped he would feel the same way very soon. 

He and Sam stood on a balcony and watched those whom Elrond had summoned arrive far below. There were dwarves, every bit as ugly and as brave looking as Bilbo had said. There were men, too, like Aragorn only much more clean and less weary. 

There were also more elves arriving, but these were not the dark haired, serious looking elves that Frodo had grown accustomed to within the walls of Rivendell. These elves dressed in green velvets and silks and they had, for the most part, red or blonde hair. Closest to Frodo and Sam as they stood on the balcony, there was a handsome elf dismounting a fine white steed. He had blonde hair down his back and carried a quiver over his shoulder. He wore finer green cloth than his comrades and a shimmering silver cloak. He effortlessly dismounted his horse as it came to a stop through the gates. Behind him rode his significantly less impressive companions, each dressed identical to the other as though in a form of uniform. 

“Wood elves.” Frodo said in a slightly awed voice, remembering all his uncle had told him. 

“Wood elves?” Sam repeated. “What’s the difference to Lord Elrond and the others?”

“That’s like asking what the difference is between Shirelings and Riverfolk, Sam.” Frodo gave his companion a pitying look. “Bilbo said wood elves are high and mighty. They keep to themselves in their tall towers and don’t care of the plights of their fellow beings.” 

“They seem to care now.” Sam remarked as the elven horses continued to ride in. “The blonde one seems…” 

Sam tailed off as the final horse rode through the gates. It was an elf maiden and she was almost the most beautiful being he or Frodo had ever seen. 

She was pale, as were most elves, and her hair was long enough so that the end of her intricate braids brushed the flank of her dappled grey horse as it flowed behind her. It was a rich brown colour, much like Elrond, though the maiden’s hair was mixed with strands of golden hair that caught the sunlight. She wore a delicately bladed green riding cloak, the same shade as the blonde male elf, with golden filigree entwined into the fabric in twists and twirls. She smiled at the blonde elf and he smiled back at her as they spoke inaudibly in Elvish and she pulled her horse to a stop beside him. Every movement she made was sweeping and elegant. Sam and Frodo were bewitched by her. 

“Do you know who that is?” Frodo whispered eventually, his mouth dry. They watched as the blonde elf helped the maiden down from her horse, taking her hand and continuing their conversation in Elvish. Her green robes swept back to reveal a silver dress beneath, the same shade as the male’s cloak. Even from this distant height Frodo and Sam could make out bright green eyes beneath the strands and braids of her unusual hair. 

“A goddess?” Sam asked in a rasp. 

“That’s Caladwen.” Frodo said reverently. “The Elven beauty, Bilbo called her.” 

Sam frowned at him. “You mean Mr Bilbo’s Caladwen?”

Frodo nodded. “The one who he met during his adventures. That must be Legolas… the Prince of Mirkwood.” Frodo nodded at the blonde male who was now walking arm in arm with Caladwen in the direction of the main keep. All around them they were being looked at by men and dwarves alike. They seemed to radiate a certain aura, though it wasn’t arrogance. It was calm and comforting. 

“Is she a Princess?” Sam asked, his voice still quiet.

“I’m not sure.” Frodo frowned. “Bilbo said that when he and the dwarves were kept prisoner by King Thranduil, Legolas’ father, the elves were celebrating the betrothal of Legolas and Caladwen.” Frodo shrugged. “I don’t know how elven marriage works.” 

“They are not married, not yet.” A voice came from behind Frodo and Sam. They both jumped and turned to see Gandalf.

“Gandalf.” Frodo said. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see you are both bewitched by the Lady Caladwen.” Gandalf chuckled fondly. “Would you like to come down and meet her and the rest of those summoned by Lord Elrond?” Gandalf shook his head at them as though they were scamps caught stealing from the pantry. 

Sam gulped. “Meet them?” He asked, looking down at his grubby fingers. “I am not worthy, surely.”

“Nonsense.” Gandalf said. “I think you’ll find Lady Caladwen to be very fond of halflings regardless of their state of cleanliness.” Gandalf winked at Frodo, who couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Come on Sam.” Frodo said encouragingly. Together they followed Gandalf back down the steps to the courtyard where all the new arrivals were gathered. 

Caladwen was no stranger to Rivendell. She had spent many a century learning from her cousin here. He was strict, but with her own family gone, save her aunt, and her homeland deserted, Lord Elrond was the best she had. He had taught her much about her heritage and how she may put it to use in serving King Thranduil and being a good wife to Legolas. She smiled at her betrothed now as he eyed their companions, his eyes filled with his fathers suspicion.

She could see the others gathered in the courtyard, the men and dwarves in their groups, looking from Caladwen to Legolas and whispering below their voices. She knew her reputation preceded her. The Battle of the Five Armies had put paid to that, and her involvement with the company of Thorin Oakenshield. She felt a small stab in her gut beneath her fine cloak as she remembered him. She thought of him and his companions often. Legolas too, as the son of Thranduil, was not well liked amongst some colonies of men, and dwarves and elves had a historical rivalry regardless. 

Caladwen thought she recognised one of the dwarves. He bore a striking resemblance to one of Thorin’s company. She blinked her green eyes at him as he scowled back at her, tossing his beard and grumbling. Caladwen stifled an amused smile. She did like when she and Legolas were permitted to leave Mirkwood. It reminded her how much of a world there was outside the decaying trees and heavy darkness that smothered Legolas’ home, the land she called her own home now.

“My friends.” Elrond appeared from the pillars before them. He spoke in Sindarin and he spread his arms wide to them all. “Welcome.” 

“Speak the common tongue.” The familiar-looking dwarf grumbled. “We don’t all speak your fancy words.” 

“My friends.” Elrond repeated wearily in the common tongue. Caladwen heard Legolas roll his eyes beside her and she gave him a look, warning him he was already behaving like his father. He shifted uncomfortably and scowled a little. “Welcome.” Elrond added. “We are much obliged that you could all make it at such short notice. There is much to discuss, and much to fear.” He looked around at them all solemnly. “We will allow you the rest of today to gather your strength after your long journeys.” Elrond gestured and many of his servants and aides appeared to shift luggage and guide the guests. “Tomorrow we will meet to discuss that which you have all travelled to witness.” 

There was a great deal of movement as the men and dwarves and the other elves of their party were organised and set about finding their way to their quarters. Elrond waited patiently for this to be done, his hands clasped regally before him. Caladwen waited too, her hands mirroring his. Legolas disappeared from her side to organise his companions. She could hear him speaking in their language around the horses. 

When the courtyard was finally somewhat clear, Elrond turned his graceful attention to Caladwen. Once again he spread his arms and stepped down to Caladwen’s level to greet her. 

“Cousin.” He said in Elvish. 

“Cousin.” Caladwen repeated. They greeted each other in the traditional manner. 

“I wish this reunion was not under such darkness.” Elrond continued in their language. 

“Is it true?” Caladwen asked, her eyes wide. “Is it the ring of power?” 

Elrond nodded darkly. “It appears so.” 

Caladwen frowned as she tried to take it in. She had not wanted to believe it. She had not been born during the original War of the Rings but she had grown up on the stories. Thranduil had sent her and Legolas here to gather all they could, to try and get the ring to Mirkwood to clear out the darkness. She knew it would only bring it. 

“Where did it surface?” Caladwen asked. 

“In the possession of a…” Elrond’s eyes lit up as he smirked at her, “... very familiar Shireling.” 

Caladwen frowned at him further, then let out a small uncertain laugh. Her smile was infectious and Elrond couldn’t help but smile a little back. 

“Bilbo Baggins?” Caladwen asked. Elrond nodded. “I don’t believe it… he must be…” She shook her head incredulously as she thought. 

“111.” Elrond confirmed. “The power of the ring.”

“It really is the One.” Caladwen said heavily. There was a pause. Then, “Is he here?” Caladwen asked hopefully.

Elrond nodded again. 

“Does he know I am?” Caladwen asked.

“No.” Elrond said. “I thought you might like to tell him.”

“I will do just that.” Caladwen smiled. She had been on many an adventure with Bilbo Baggins and it meant that she had a large soft spot for such tiny hobbits. He had saved her life at the Battle of Five Armies outside of the Lonely Mountain and it was not something she would likely forget in her long, long existence. 

“He will be delighted.” Elrond made to step aside and take her to Bilbo, but they were distracted by a cloaked grey figure emerging, two more hobbits behind him. 

“My Lady.” Gandalf said brightly as he approached.

“Mithrandir!” Caladwen said fondly. She hurried past Elrond and embraced Gandalf, almost knocking him over. “You are looking well.” She stepped back again to take in his beard and his tired eyes.

“Well,” Gandalf chuckled, “I’m certainly trying.” 

Caladwen smiled warmly at him. Gandalf was another old acquaintance of hers. Her eyes slid past Gandalf to the two halflings standing behind him. Her smile continued, though a little uncertain. 

“Ah, yes.” Gandalf cleared his throat. “This is Samwise Gamgee…”

“My lady.” The blonde one said, bowing deeply. Caladwen nodded her head at him. 

“Get up.” Gandalf fussed, flapping his hat at Sam. “And this,” Gandalf gestured at the dark haired hobbit. He was still looking at Caladwen in awe. “This is Frodo Baggins.” 

“Baggins?” Caladwen asked in the common tongue, looking to Gandalf for confirmation and then back to Frodo. 

“Bilbo’s nephew.” Gandalf explained. 

“Of course.” Caladwen nodded, understanding. “I see the resemblance. You have the same fire, Frodo Baggins.” 

“Thank you, my lady.” Frodo said weakly. 

Caladwen smiled at them all. Her smile was infectious, nothing like what Frodo had expected wood elves to be like. Her betrothed, Legolas, was still over by the horses and he seemed far from the smiling kind. 

“If you’ll excuse me, old friend,” Caladwen looked to Gandalf, “I have another old friend that I must pay a visit too.” 

“Ah, yes.” Gandalf chuckled. “Shall I escort you, my lady?” 

“I would like that.” Caladwen spoke in Sindarin as she took Gandalf’s offered arm. She scooped up her skirts in a handful so as to make it easier to walk. They moved as effortlessly as water. Caladwen and Gandalf walked off down the corridor together, talking in heavy Sindarin and leaving Frodo and Sam where they stood. 

“Say what you wish about Mr Gandalf,” Sam said quietly, “But he has all the confidence I wish that I had.”

“You’ll get there, Sam.” Frodo said fondly. 

“She is beautiful, isn’t she.” Sam said in a hushed tone. “Possibly the most beautiful elf I’ve ever seen.”

“Have you seen many elves?” Frodo laughed. Sam blushed. 

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve seen enough.” 

“Come on Sam.” Frodo shook his head. “We should start to pack for our journey home.” 

Frodo and Sam headed off in the direction of their chambers. 

Down the corridor, almost out of sight of the halflings, Caladwen looked over her shoulder to where they disappeared. Still arm in arm with Gandalf, her thoughts filled with those of the halflings who were disappearing from her view. She didn’t know what it meant, or how to explain how she felt, but she felt they were important. 

She really did have a fondness for hobbits.


	2. The Old Friend | Mellon Iphanti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caladwen is reunited with an old friend, one who she owes a great debt to. He asks something of her that she has no choice but to promise.

_ Third Age, 3018 | Rivendell. _

The man Caladwen was met with as she was shown to Bilbo’s chamber by Gandalf was not what she had expected. She bid Gandalf farewell, entered the room and paused in the doorway to look at the white haired hobbit that met her. He had his back to her, hunched over a desk in the corner cradling his hand before him in a possessive manner. 

Caladwen frowned a little at him. Then, banishing her concerns and summoning her honour, she cleared her throat. 

Bilbo turned. His face was elderly, his hair white. He was a far cry from the spritely red haired hobbit Caladwen had met sixty years prior. 

Nonetheless, as Bilbo laid eyes upon Caladwen, his face lit up and the old Bilbo returned. 

“My lady Caladwen.” Bilbo cried. He had stopped cradling his hand, though it had appeared to be empty all along, and spread his arms. 

“Good Bilbo.” Caladwen held out her own arms and the two of them embraced in the middle of the room. Despite his many months in Rivendell, Bilbo still had the familiar smell of cut grass, fresh flowers and baking bread that came with the Hobbiton life he was accustomed to. 

Caladwen stepped back to observe her old acquaintance. “You’ve hardly aged a day, my friend.” She smiled warmly at him. 

Bilbo scoffed. “If that statement applies to either of us, it is  _ you  _ my lady.” Bilbo gestured for Caladwen to sit on the window seat and she obliged as Bilbo climbed up to sit on the edge of his bed opposite her. 

“You know elves do not age the same way as other races.” Caladwen’s eyes sparkled as she spoke, her mouth turned in a comforting smile. “Especially not hobbits.” She eyed him suspiciously. “These last sixty years have been extremely kind to you, Bilbo, more perhaps than others.” 

Bilbo shrugged off her statement. “You ought to move out of that Mirkwood, my lady, and experience the Shire. You too might not age… if you aged in the first place.” 

Caladwen chuckled at him. She knew he was lying. He was 111. It was magic that had kept him from aging. She could sense it. 

“What brings you here?” Bilbo changed the subject. It was Bilbo’s turn to frown suspiciously. “I have noticed many have been assembled in Lord Elrond’s halls. What is it all about?”

“My cousin has called a council.” Caladwen replied diplomatically. If Bilbo did not know about the power he had once possessed then she was certainly not about to point it out. “My beloved and I were invited. Well, my Lord Thranduil was too but…”

“He didn’t want to leave Mirkwood.” Bilbo finished knowledgeably. He remembered Lord Thranduil all too well from his adventures. 

“ _ Yes. _ ” Caladwen replied in her native tongue. There was a long, knowing silence. 

“How is the Prince?” Bilbo asked. 

“Well.” Caladwen nodded, her smile returning. “I think he resents possibly moving our wedding date for this council and it’s business, but it cannot be helped.” 

“Oh yes,” Bilbo said excitedly, “Your wedding. When was that supposed to occur?”

“In a few months there is an occurrence in the stars. It is very important to Legolas that we were to marry that day. There is an ancient elven belief amongst his people that the stars themselves would bless the union.” Caladwen looked down at the rings on her fingers, stroking the silver leaf softly. “If this business with my cousin takes longer than expected…” Caladwen swallowed. 

“Stars or no stars you are meant to be with Legolas.” Bilbo said wisely. He reached out, leaning quite far to reach her, and put a hand on hers. Caladwen met his eye and smiled bravely. 

“I do not need stars to bless our marriage.” Caladwen said. “I just need him.” 

There was another pause in which Caladwen gave Bilbo’s hand a little squeeze. 

“I fear Frodo is to be caught up in this council business that Lord Elrond has called.” Bilbo mused as he retracted his hand. “He’s different. He’s darker already.”

Caladwen wondered how much of Frodo’s journey so far Bilbo knew. She decided not to comment on the Morgul blade or the ring being as powerful. 

“I met him.” Caladwen said. Bilbo’s eyes lit up as he searched for her approval. “He seems to be much like you were. Kind. Brave. A little mischievous and trouble-prone.” Caladwen smiled wider. Bilbo blushed and shrugged. 

“What can I say?” He asked. “Once a Baggins, always a Baggins.” 

Caladwen laughed, her laugh ringing as the pealing of bells. Bilbo chuckled along with her.

“You have done a good job in raising him, Bilbo.” Caladwen complimented him. “I can tell already from one meeting.” 

“He certainly does me proud.” Bilbo agreed. “He’s a good boy.” Bilbo’s smile faded. “I worry about him out here in the Wide World.” 

Caladwen shook her head. This time she reached out to take the hand of her old friend. It was significantly less of a stretch for her, and she did so with the grace and softness of water. “I am sure there were many who worried for you out in the Wide World.” She reminded Bilbo. “You were alone amongst your kind. Frodo is not. There are no less than five hobbits currently in Rivendell and I could almost swear that whatever Frodo decides to do, his kin will accompany him.” 

Bilbo swallowed dryly. He clutched her hand with his wizened old fingers, thinking of all of the adventures he had had in his long life. He thought of the first time he had met this Elven beauty. The way she had helped him against the wishes of her own kinfolk. The way she had fought alongside him within the walls of the desolation of Smaug with no hint of racial tension or patronising thought. Bilbo remembered how he had trusted her more than any other, save perhaps Gandalf, and how...

“Will you?” He asked before he could stop himself. Caladwen frowned at him. 

“Will I what, Bilbo?” Caladwen asked. 

Bilbo clutched her hand with both of his. “If Frodo decides to go on whatever journey Elrond has set forth for him… will you accompany him as his kin?” 

Caladwen swallowed. This had been a thought that had been buzzing around her head already. She both loved and hated the safety of Mirkwood. She craved adventure, danger, on a daily basis. But at the same time she was about to start her life with Legolas. Yet…

“Of course.” Caladwen promised in a small voice. She cleared her throat. “Of course I will, Bilbo. I owe you a life debt, remember? And I don’t feel you yourself shall be adventuring anytime soon.” She smiled but this time the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. This was a heavy promise. “You saved my life in the battle of five armies. I will never forget that. I owe you a life debt, Bilbo, and if you wish to transfer that…?”

“Thank you.” Bilbo’s eyes pricked with tears. “He’s all I have.” 

Caladwen smiled genuinely this time and squeezed his hands, taking them both in both of hers and leaning forward to address him firmly. 

“Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, Hobbiton, the Shire.” Caladwen giggled and Bilbo managed a small laugh. “I, Caladwen Indgalad of Noldor, promise to protect, and if necessary, lay down my life for Frodo and any and all Shirefolk that I may encounter, in honour of your selfless act towards me sixty years ago.” 

Caladwen put a hand to her forehead and made the gesture of promise of her race. Bilbo returned it and smiled at her, his eyes still filled with tears. 

“I will keep them all safe, Bilbo,” Caladwen promised once more, “Should it come to that.” 

Bilbo smiled at her in thanks, grateful to her for sustaining an honour and open-mind far beyond many of her race. 


	3. The New Promise | I Cirguest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caladwen makes a promise to Frodo at the Council of Elrond that will define the rest of her life.

_ Third Age, 3018 | Rivendell. _

The Council of Elrond was, quite simply, chaos. The men who had been called to be representatives of Gondor were rowdy, loud and argumentative. The elves of Rivendell and Mirkwood sat in a judgemental silence as they waited for them to quieten. Caladwen sat beside Legolas, between him and Mithrandir. 

Beside the Gondorian’s sat the dwarves of the mountains. Their leader, a brown-bearded dwarf who looked vaguely familiar in a haunting way, joined in the rowdiness of the Gondorians. Caladwen felt Legolas’ hand clench on the arm of the chair. She gently laid her hand atop of his. She knew he carried his fathers hatred for dwarves. Caladwen, on the other hand, found them fascinating. She, as Legolas, had met Thorin Oakenshield and his company of dwarves sixty years previously. She thought them a proud race, but she knew elves were capable of the same pride. She felt there was already much darkness in the world without adding to it by choice. The dwarves, it seemed, did not share her open mind as they glared at the elves across the circle. 

Directly across the circle from Caladwen was a man named Aragorn, another old acquaintance. After the battle of the five armies had ended, Thranduil had sent Legolas and Caladwen north to meet with this ranger and they had adventured together for a good few years. He was a trustworthy man, worth far more than these loud-mouthed Gondorians. He offered Caladwen a tired smile and she returned it with a small nod of the head. 

“Honestly.” Gandalf muttered beside Caladwen. She turned to him with a questioning look. “Are we here to shout and make a fool of ourselves, or are we here for a reason?” He wasn’t talking to anyone in particular but Caladwen nodded in agreement. Elrond seemed to hear, too. On the other side of Mithrandir was Frodo, looking even smaller and out of place amongst these other races. Caladwen shot him a small reassuring smile, remembering her promise to Bilbo, before turning her attention to Elrond as he called for order. The Gondorians and dwarves reluctantly fell silent as Elrond introduced them all to why they had been summoned. 

Frodo placed the ring in the middle of the circle. Nobody dared to speak as they looked upon it. For such a threatening thing it was intriguingly small. Caladwen found her head tilting as she wondered how such a small thing could cause so much damage. She was saved much more thought by the loudest Gondorian, named Boromir, got to his feet to stake his claim and opinion of the ring. His words were met with Gandalf reciting black speech and Caladwen closed her eyes. She did not wish to hear such a tongue. It only cemented her promise to help rid them of the danger. The speech ended as Elrond once again called order and explained how the ring must be destroyed after Gimli, the dwarf leader, tried to destroy it with his axe and failed.

Caladwen kept quiet as she listened and observed. She knew Legolas wished to return to Mirkwood, to appease his father, but at the same time she knew he would want to help rid them of this evil as much as she. She turned to him and met his eye from the side, questioning with one look. 

Legolas gave her a small nod that told her all she needed to know. If it came to it, they would volunteer. 

Caladwen swallowed and looked back at the ring on the plinth in the centre. So small. So impactful. Much like hobbits. 

Talk turned to who should take the ring to destroy it and Caladwen held her breath. Legolas did not initially volunteer. Once more Boromir had opinions of using the ring as a weapon against Mordor. Aragorn weighed in now and Boromir rounded on him. It was at this time Legolas grew heated and stood to come to Aragorn’s defence. 

“This is no mere ranger.” He argued. Caladwen met Aragorn’s exasperated eye. “He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.”

The circle fell silent as Aragorn thanked and dismissed Legolas. Legolas sat once more and Caladwen put her hand on his to calm his mind. Boromir said his piece, and Legolas once again argued. Caladwen could sense this was not going to go well. She felt Mithrandir squeeze her arm, feeling her exasperation. She pulled at Legolas’ cloak to get him to sit but he did not. Gimli then proclaimed his hatred for elves and Caladwen could hold it back no longer. She was not a proud elf, she knew her race had many flaws, but she would not stand by and let Legolas fight alone. She never had, and she never would. 

“Don’t trust an elf!” Gimli cried. 

“Don’t trust an elf?!” Caladwen got to her feet and ignored Legolas’ arm trying to keep her back. “You know it was dwarves who have caused more wars than elves? You speak of trust and yet…”

“Caladwen…” Legolas warned, but Gimli said something else and the entire circle erupted into argument at the top of their voices. 

“What opinion should a woman have of such matters all the same?” Boromir shot at Caladwen. Caladwen’s head jerked as though slapped. She found herself crossing the circle to directly address him. She was about the same height as this tall, broad and well-armoured man. This did not phase her. She did not raise her voice to argue. She simply spoke calmly but with enough ice to make her point. 

“I’m sorry, Boromir, son of Denethor, but how many battles have you fought yourself? You say the blood of your people keep the threat of Mordor at bay but how many elven lives have been laid at the Black Gate through the ages? You are not alone in this. None of us are.” She turned to the circle at large and raised her voice a little. “If we continue to fight race wars amongst ourselves we will be easy pickings when the forces of Mordor are amassed. They are growing stronger. Soon there will be no choice to fight. If the ring is destroyed then we will stand a chance. Perhaps we don’t need armies. Perhaps we need stealth. A small force...” She was looking for anyone to meet her eye, to agree with her, but none did. 

None except Frodo. 

Frodo had listened to every word that she had said. He thought about her words for a moment before getting to his feet, his mind made up. 

“I will take the ring to Mordor!” He announced. None but Caladwen and Gandalf heard him. They looked to each other, then to him as he repeated himself, louder. Caladwen let out a small gasp of regret at his words but there was no going back now. 

Around them the crowd fell silent. Caladwen still stood in the middle of the circle by the very ring itself. Her eyes were fixed on Frodo as slowly, one by one, everyone took their places once more. All except Caladwen. 

“Though I do not know the way.” Frodo admitted. 

“I will go with you.” Gandalf said, standing beside Frodo. 

Caladwen stood for a moment in the centre of the circle. She remembered her conversation with Bilbo and knew what she had to do. She glanced at Legolas, who once again gave her a small nod, then she looked to Frodo. 

“As will I.” She said. 

“Why?” Frodo managed to ask through his dry mouth. 

Caladwen managed a small smile. She stepped towards Frodo, her heart pounding. She kept her eyes fixed on him. “The road will be long. Dangerous. But a long time ago I made a promise to your uncle. I owe him a life debt. He saved mine, and so I promised to safe his. Bilbo will not be adventuring any time soon.” Caladwen swallowed. “So I vow to protect you, Frodo, in his place. Anything I have is at your disposal. My bow, my sword…” Caladwen glanced to Legolas and let out a long sigh before turning back to Frodo. “My life.” 

Frodo blinked at her, surprised. He had thought elves to be a haughty, proud race, yet here Caladwen was confirming everything Bilbo had ever said about her. He nodded in thanks, too choked up to voice his emotions. Caladwen nodded, the promise made, and stepped to stand beside Mithrandir. She took a deep breath. 

“Besides,” She whispered to Frodo, squeezing his shoulder, “I have always been fond of hobbits.” 

Frodo smiled at her wanly. 

Aragorn pledged his life to Frodo. As he spoke, Caladwen looked to Legolas in apology. She knew he would be conflicted about her decision, especially as she had not discussed it with him. There would be no chance of their wedding on the decided night. Legolas seemed to be thinking something similar, though something in his soft eyes told Caladwen it wasn’t a feeling of anger or disappointment. He stepped forward to Frodo as Aragorn stepped away. 

“You have my bow.” He pledged. Frodo thanked him and Legolas stood beside Caladwen. He leaned close to her ear and whispered in an almost inaudible voice, speaking in elvish to her alone, “After I nearly lost you I promised I would never leave your side. I am yours, marriage or no. We will do this together.” 

Caladwen smiled at him and her fingers found his beneath their cloaks. There was an uncertain road ahead but they would take it on together as they always had. 


End file.
